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Music Junky

Ars Gratia Artis

fuckyeahvintage-retro:

Musicians smoking cigarettes, 1960s-70s - By Jim Marshall.

newportfolkfest:

From now on, every song is about you.

newportfolkfest:

From now on, every song is about you.

(Source: thisisnthappiness.com)

"Let go your attachment to the unreal and the real will swiftly and smoothly slip into its own. Stop imagining yourself being or doing this or that and the realization that you are the source and heart of all will dawn upon you. With this will come great love which is not choice or predilection, nor attachment, but a power which makes all things love-worthy and lovable."
- Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj (via lazyyogi)
lensblr-network:

"Out of my brain on the 5:15", Portland, OR 2014.
photo © Dave Haworth  (davesphotoexploration.tumblr.com)

lensblr-network:

"Out of my brain on the 5:15", Portland, OR 2014.

(Source: gatissed, via gurl)

Fourth of July

Philip walked me home tonight. It was a five mile walk. We told our life stories to one another and had a really, great, meaningful conversation…

As we talked I thought, I’m so jaded now. Here is this Adonis of a man and I don’t even have the slightest desire to flirt with him. He’s intelligent as hell, funny…so funny, he may be the most gorgeous man I’ve ever met, and we have an enormous amount in common. Unfortunately he’s going to be a senior in undergrad next year. Actually only a year younger than me, we’re still worlds apart. Because after Ryan, I know I don’t want to waste my time with someone who isn’t ready-Someone who doesn’t want the same things as me. Especially when I don’t even know what I want. He could be perfect…and if timing were different, maybe. Instead, all I have is the memory of us stumbling along the 50th street overpass, and him holding my waist as I bent backwards over the overpass railing to view the cars whizzing by upside down. We laughed and I was sad to think…he’s a friend and that’s all he ever can be. I have no more room to love again anyway. That room is still occupied by Ryan. And will be for some time to come.

I just have to keep reminding myself

Some day I won’t feel worthless
Some day someone will actually love me for me and will stay
I hate how fucking needy I am
This unquenchable desire to be liked to be admired to be loved
To even be thought of
Some day I’ll have faith in myself
Some day I’ll see all the things I can do
Some day I won’t need the approval of others
Some day I’ll be able to stand on my own
Some day I’ll know actual love
Some day I’ll be happy
Some day I’ll be content
Some day I’ll be home. Wherever that is
Some day I’ll be comfortable
Some day I’ll laugh genuinely without any pretense or mask
Some day I’ll know me
Some day someone will think I’m worth it
Some day someone will want to make me happy
Some day some guy just won’t want to hurt me
Some day I’ll be someone’s everything like I’ve felt about others
Some day the pain will end
Some day it’ll all seem silly and worth it
Even now the pain from two years ago I can feel if i really tap into it
Some day I’ll smile a real smile
Some day someone will want to make it all better
Some day I’ll trust again
Some day
I loved so deeply and it was a waste
I keep wasting the love and trust I have on people who don’t think I’m worth it.

Some day
I want to go home. I want to see my mom. I want to know she’s ok. I miss her and I’m worried. It’s true that no one loves me like her or my dad. No one sees me as worth it like they do.

"You are the work of God, and His work is wholly lovable and wholly loving. This is how a man must think of himself in his heart, because this is what he is."
- A Course in Miracles (via lazyyogi)

They come in threes

Today my best friend stopped speaking to me
My mother was admitted to the ER for an autoimmune disease
And I stepped on a yellow jacket.

How was your day?

When Nick broke up with me
I was bitten by a brown recluse
And I found a snake in our dryer